The stripes of brown ad dusky wood planks leading
Out there. The hall wall carpet
Less than grand, almost bizarrely happy with
Itself (the rug). Everyone’s footsteps boldened.
Right or left, so down steps awful then glass doors—
I see people, hounds and birds.
Neither sun or moon look glorious, luminous
Eyes seeing the world were They
Can’t see me. Tremble out of door, put my sights
Of a particular object and go. Go.
Go! Weird. Cumbersome. Out into homogenous
Flat world that I’m living in.
People scare me; they scare easily when I
Run into them on the beach.
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